


Unforgettable

by TakeAHike



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Songfic, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakeAHike/pseuds/TakeAHike
Summary: Nicole arrives new to Purgatory and gets her world turned upside-down.





	Unforgettable

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to write this one for a while, but a mixture of grad school and work kept me from sitting down to do it. It’s an AU with no supernatural stuff. I heard the song "Unforgettable" by Thomas Rhett and thought it would be an adorable little version of a WayHaught AU. Some of this may also be a little OOC for Nicole, but I’m doing the best I can to try to stay true to her character. I literally have no idea how long this will be or where it will ultimately end up.
> 
> I don’t have a beta for this one, so please be gentle? Hope you like it!

I let myself release the tired sigh I’ve been holding in for the last few hours as my key slips into the lock on the front door.  It’s been a long couple of weeks, but it’s Friday and I can finally take a breath this weekend before having to get used to a new daily grind.  Monday I start work as part of the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department.  I can already tell it will be a drastic change from being a cop in the city, but it’s a change I desperately need.

Much of today was spent getting paperwork finalized, getting my uniform and badge, but also getting introduced to everyone at the station.  It wasn’t that grueling of a day, to be honest, but after moving and unpacking at least half of my stuff earlier in the week, I’m just fried.  As I step inside and swing the door closed behind me, I catch a glimpse of the half-dozen or so unpacked boxes in the living room.  CJ, in all of her auburn glory, comes trotting down the stairs and makes her way towards me.  I set my bag down off to the side and pick her up, holding her to me while I turn to lock the door.

“How’re you doing, Gorgeous?  Been a hard day for you too?” Calamity purrs hard as I move through the house towards the kitchen.  She already knows she’s about to be fed because she’s butting her head against my chin. Spoiled rotten.

I set her down on the kitchen floor, toss my keys on the kitchen table, and go through the motions of pulling her bag of cat food down from above the fridge to fill her dish.  My thoughts are dragged back to Shae scoffing at the idea of a bag of pet food being in plain sight in the kitchen – so unseemly.  I snort and dismiss the thought quickly.  This is my house, my home, and it’s completely fine to have something simple like pet food visible.  For as much as she loved me and as awesome as she could be as a wife or partner, she had so many hang-ups and expectations about how life should be lived.

The divorce, thankfully, was fairly painless and mutual.  She wasn’t happy and neither was I.  It’s not that she was a bad person, but we were just very incompatible people. I’m not messy and I’m not lazy, but there’s only so much perfection and organization I can manage.  Oh well.  Shaking myself out of those thoughts, I lean back against the kitchen sink with my hands on the edge of the counter and give a glare to the stack of boxes in the living room.  I’m not doing this now.  I need to get out and not think about unpacking anymore – at least for a night.  Earlier today, after the paperwork was all signed, Nedley walked me up and down the main drag of Purgatory just to “meet the people”.  I remember that Shorty’s was the place to be if you wanted a cold beer or a solid pour of good whiskey. I pick my keys up from the kitchen table and head back out, making sure to double-check the locks.

 

~

 

I pull up on the main drag in Purgatory and squeeze my truck into place between a bright red Jeep and a slick-looking black Harley.  I flip down the visor, double-check my face and teeth, and then tuck an errant strand of my short, red hair behind my right ear.  Good to go.

I step out into the cool weather and make my way towards Shorty’s.  It’s a little "spaghetti western" for me, but I’m just going to have to get use to this town and its unique brand of charm.  A little surprisingly, I don’t hear the twangy country music I was expecting to, but I do hear what sounds like some dated Top 40s.  Taking a deep breath to settle my nerves, I push open the door and make my way inside.  You can do this, Haught.  They’re the people you’ll be protecting and serving. They’re just people.

The bar is churning with people, because it’s a Friday, of course it is.  It’s a good mixture of younger and older folks.  An older man and woman are behind the bar working, but despite the crowd, they don’t seem swamped.  This place has a nice vibe.  I look to the right and sitting at the bar is this tough-looking brunette.  A quick once-over highlights the cannon she’s got strapped to her hip, but also shows me that there are some _beautiful_ women in this town.  What a tease this town is going to be for my love life – or lack thereof.  She also looks like she’d be just a fun person to talk to.  I meander towards the empty bar stool next to her only to pass a glance at the cowboy next to her.  I’m not one for admiring men's facial hair but that mustache took some work.  He looks up from his conversation with her, having clocked me. In a gesture that doesn’t seem to quite fit this century, he brings his finger up to the brim of his hat and taps it to acknowledge me.  I nod to him in a greeting and slide onto the empty bar stool. The dangerous-looking brunette between myself and the cowboy finishes her short pour of whiskey and turns to look at me.

“Why hello, Red.  You look new.”

Red. Cute. Just what I need, a person fond of nicknames.  Here we go.  I smile and extend my right hand.

“I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught. I just—” a smirk breaks out on the brunette’s face and she snorts out a laugh that interrupts me.

“Wait, wait, wait! Your last name is Hot? Friggin’ seriously?”

“It’s spelled H-A-U-G-H-T, not H-O-T, and yes. I just moved to town. I start at the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department on Monday.”

The brunette finally reaches over herself and snags my hand, not bothering to contain her snicker as she shakes my hand solidly. I’m a little surprised how strong her grip is, to be honest.  That’s insanely interesting and attractive.

“Welcome to Purgatory, Officer Hotstuff.  You’ll hear _allll_ sorts of things about me, but I’m Wynonna Earp.”

The cowboy behind her is clearly amused by the exchange.  He introduces himself very formally as John Henry Holliday, but everybody just calls him “Doc”.  I won’t ask now, but I feel like there’s a whole story I need to get out of him at some point. Doc gets the male bartender, who is apparently the owner and namesake of the bar, to pour me a double of whiskey on his tab.  I could get used to this town.  That’s a lot of whiskey for me, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I slip my jacket off and toss my beanie onto the bar top just as a glass of whiskey is set down in front of me.  I take a small sip from the glass as my eyes start to take in the other patrons of the bar.  My eyes land on a woman near the pool table on the other end of the bar and suddenly I can’t breathe.  Holy fuck.  I can hear Wynonna asking me a question, but it’s all I can do to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.  Leaning on a pool cue, her left hand holding the cue and her right on her hip, the stunning brunette was clearly laughing at the poor guy playing the game with her.  Her beautiful, long hair is swept back from her face by an intricate floral clip and adorable little crinkles form around her eyes as she giggles again. I wish I could tell the color of her eyes from here.  She’s wearing a loose-fitting crop top that slightly hangs off one shoulder and teases the abs the brunette has clearly put hard work into having.  Dark blue, high-waisted skinny jeans follow her svelte form all the way to a pair of wedge-heeled sneakers.  The guy has clearly lost the game and she reaches over, patting an apology onto the side of his arm.  He shakes his head and walks away just as the girl picks up a bright orange drink from the high-top table nearby. The move to pick up her drink turns her back to me and her ass is nothing short of top –ow fuck! A sharp pain crosses my right arm and I turn my head to glare at Wynonna.

“I’m going to elect to ignore that eye-fucking you were giving my little sister.  I get that she’s distracting, but do you mind actually listening to me when I’m talking to you? I was asking about what brought you to our abysmal little neck of the woods.”


End file.
